It Goes Like This
by Severus' Malfoy Maiden
Summary: The four wizards sat watching the young woman from their table at the café. It had been unseasonably warm, resulting in the afternoons being perfect for witch-watching. Opting to play a bit of hard-to-get, she squared her shoulders and walked through the door of the shoe shop, wearing a slight smile in plain view.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Title: **It Goes Like This**

**A/N: **_This fic is for ClumsyDolphin. Thank you, Clumsy, for the motivation to write another Marcus! Just love him!_

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"It's snowing."

Hermione sighed, annoyed with his nonsensical observation during a rather exasperating and repetitive argument. It was at that moment that she made the decision. "I can't do this anymore, Ron."

He turned to her. "What do you mean?" He was strangely calm. He knew what she meant and knew that it was time, though he didn't want to give up. They'd only been together for five months, six days and two hours. They'd moved in together mere weeks after the last battle; when Kingsley, newly appointed Minister of Magic, declared it safe to 'get to living and start rebuilding'.

When she looked back at her boyfriend, her eyes were burning a little. "I love you Ron, but not in the way I should. We are much better friends than bedfellows. We can't continue arguing and hurting each other…"

He nodded. "So what do we do? Who do we tell first? Mum or Harry?"

Relieved at his agreement, Hermione inhaled and sat down in front of the fire. "Harry will probably be comforted if we tell him together and he sees that we aren't…"

"Bitter?" he furnished.

She huffed with humor and nodded. "Bitter."

"Mum…"

"She never really liked me. Perhaps you can break the news to her after we tell Harry?" She was looking up at him through her dark lashes.

Ron looked affronted. "Don't bat your eyes at me, witch!" he teased. "You're the brave one!" After a moment of silence, his head popped up. "Harry can tell her!"

Hermione liked that idea and laughed at the pair they made; such cowardice from war heroes!

After a brief logistics discussion and agreement that Ron would keep the flat, she embraced him and set plans to find herself a place to live.

**oOo Chapter One**

"Well, look at that," a strikingly beautiful wizard commented, looking at the lovely witch, who was walking across the cobblestoned street.

The blond wizard next to him shifted focus to his friend's line of sight. His eyebrows rose. "Nice."

"I love spring time. Flowers blooming, bees buzzing-"

"Witches wearing short skirts and skimpy tops."

"Exactly."

The four wizards sat watching the young woman from their table at the café. It had been unseasonably warm, resulting in the afternoons being perfect for witch-watching.

They watched her move slowly from one boutique to another, pausing at the window display of rows upon rows of shoes.

Draco smiled. "Gets them every time."

Their mood soured a bit as a chunky redhead lumbered up and wrapped a clumsy arm around the witch. "Weasley," Blaise drawled, clearly unhappy with the intrusion on his view.

"Wait, that's not Granger is it?" Draco asked, looking for some resemblance to the bushy-haired witch he knew in school.

"When did she get back?" Pucey asked, remembering the headlines when she left the country four years ago.

"When did she grow up? I don't remember those lovely legs belonging to anything Granger," Blaise commented.

The large, dark-haired wizard, sitting to the left of Pucey hadn't spoken a word since he'd first noticed her. Marcus Flint appraised the slight witch with approving eyes.

**OoOoO**

"'Mione! There you are. Been looking everywhere for you. Why are we looking at shoes? They're for girls."

Hermione looked at her long-time friend, pointedly, mentally wondering how he'd somehow not seen this even after their brief stint as a couple.

Ron got the picture and stuttered, "Not that you're not a girl, but _these_ shoes are for _girls_." He paused then continued when his statement had not placated the quick-tempered witch. "I mean these are too high for you to walk in, you know? Impractical," he said and looked at her with hope in his eyes. He didn't want to be Hexed yet again. "And everyone knows that Hermione Granger is anything if practical."

Hermione smirked and looked down at the high heels she was wearing: beige strappy sandals that increased her height four inches.

Ron followed her gaze and grunted. "Right. Well, I'll just go check out the new Quidditch Supply," he mumbled. Ron clumsily kissed her on the cheek and left.

Hermione smiled after him, shaking her head at his total oblivion then wiped the saliva off of her face.

She was a confident witch; though the confidence had been hard won after a couple of years on her own without her two best friends and familiar surroundings, but coming back, she realized that she still held some insecurities as to her appeal to the male population. There were times when she liked being impractical, she thought, with a smile.

Hermione sighed and looked at her reflection in the window. She was wearing a linen cream-colored sundress with spaghetti straps and muted flowers. It was snug fit to her natural waist then straight and flowy to the middle of her thighs. The seam was hidden by a brown leather belt, which matched her shoes.

She'd lost her baby weight during war, but she still had sported a round face and slight potbelly. University had changed that. Her round face and potbelly were gone now, replaced by sharper features and longer-looking limbs. Exercise had become a habit since then and now she was slender and lithe and toned.

Hermione smoothed her hair; the soft breeze had tossed a few strands around her face.

She'd cut it upon her University graduation, but it had since grown back thicker, if that were possible, but not frizzy. It was wavy and dark russet in color. It fell to just beneath her shoulder blades.

Her eyes focused on the reflection in the window once again; her body and dress. Everything looked just fine, she thought.

Before moving to enter the shoe establishment, her eye caught the four wizards at the table behind her. They were watching her. _Probably trying not to laugh_, she thought, feeling silly to have been caught inspecting herself.

She recognized the platinum blond hair: Malfoy. His presence didn't spark any kind of negative feeling. They were adults now. The others only looked vaguely familiar to her. She assumed that they had attended Hogwarts as well and that she'd seen them around.

Blinking, she tilted her head. They were smiling… at her. Then, just as she felt the burn of embarrassment on her cheeks, one of them waved. It made her giggle, even if they were only tearing the mickey.

Opting to play a bit of hard-to-get, she squared her shoulders and walked through the door of the shoe shop, wearing a slight smile in plain view.

**oOoOo**

Pucey chuffed as Granger wiped at her face. "He slobbered on her."

"Yuck. Weasley slobber," Draco said with a scowl.

This new Granger turned to face the window once again. She stood there not moving.

"She must really like shoes," Blaise answered.

"She's not looking at the shoes," Pucey informed them.

"She looks fine; more than fine," Draco snapped.

"Don't be a boor, Draco. Wouldn't you wonder why Weasley let you go and Potter never made his move?" Blaise asked.

Draco thought he had a point, but then wondered aloud. "Maybe Potty did make his move. Maybe that's why she left Weasel-bee."

No one commented.

Marcus smiled. "She's not looking at herself anymore; she's watching us watch her."

They all smiled.

Blaise waved just to ensure she knew that they knew.

It made her drop her head and hide a smile. Soon after, she squared her shoulders and she walked inside.

"I think we should welcome her back to town. What say you?" Marcus asked already standing and pushing in his chair.

Draco followed suit. "I've always been curious as to how witches walk in such devices."

**oOoOo**

Hermione distantly heard the doorbell ring as another customer entered, but didn't pay it any mind. She was torn between the slightly pinkish beige Peacock heels and the lace up Oxford pumps. She decided to try on both pair: one on one foot and the other on the other foot.

Walking back and forth, watching her feet in the floor mirrors, she thought they felt comfortable, made her feet look pretty and didn't pinch her toes at all; this led her to remain undecided. Twisting each foot this way and that, not paying attention to her surroundings, she startled when a deep voice spoke so close that she felt the warmth of his breath on the skin of her shoulder.

"Both look lovely on your feet, Granger."

Hermione wondered briefly why she hadn't noticed the other person's feet in the mirror. She turned to face the speaker. Instead of looking eye to chin as she did with Ron and Harry, she was face to chest.

Time slowed as her mind adjusted to this new development. Her eyes took in every detail of his dark collared shirt that fit comfortably snug over his broad and decidedly muscled chest. Her eyes skipped across the wide expanse of his solid looking shoulders, his thick corded neck, with a dark pointed tattoo peeking out from under his collar and across the pulsing vein, which sped up slightly as she perused. Those same brown eyes slid over his very masculine jaw line, defined cheekbones and dark-as-ink blue eyes. She immediately took a step back when their eyes met. His were twinkling with amusement and hers were uncertain and mildly embarrassed.

She smiled hesitantly at the wizards watching her drink in the form of the man in front of her. She swallowed the thickness in her throat, and looked for a familiar face. "Hello, Dra- Malfoy."

Draco smiled. It was disarming. It dawned on her at that moment why the girls all had spoken so …highly of him during school. She hadn't thought he was anything but vile then, but now she thought he was rather dashing, with his hair a bit longer and slanted over his forehead to the corner of his eye.

They watched each other only for a moment before he inhaled and moved to the side, but in that moment, pasts were forgiven and a new start was embarked. "You remember Blaise Zabini?"

The dark Italian nodded his head, took her hand and bowed to kiss her knuckles. "Hermione," he greeted.

Hermione blushed and nodded. "Blaise, it's nice to see you again."

Her eyes were moving to the two wizards waiting patiently for an introduction.

"This is Adrian Pucey. And the behemoth looking at you like you're his last meal is Marcus Flint. He and Pucey were upper classmen during our first and second years at Hogwarts." Draco finished the introductions and smiled as Hermione's eyes roamed hungrily over Marcus' large muscled form. She had to mentally scold herself in order to form a passably polite greeting. As it was, she panted out their names, making them smile and her blush deeper.

They stood there, eyeing each other up. The seconds ticked by in mutual adoration until the portly sales lady interrupted. "Shall I box the shoes for you, miss?"

Hermione twitched then looked down at the shoes. "Yes, both pair, please."

"Is that all for you today?" the sales lady asked, with a disapproving eye to the four wizards still mentally undressing the small witch.

"Yes, I'm all done. Thank you."

Not knowing what to do or say, Hermione shifted from one bare foot to the other.

"Will you be walking around barefoot the rest of the day?" Adrian asked, his green eyes twinkling with humor at her apparent discomfort.

"We wouldn't mind, Granger. You have pretty feet. I could stand to look at them all day," Blaise added, licking his bottom lip.

"Or sucking on those delicious toes," Marcus mumbled.

Hermione didn't quite hear what they said, but she did hear Draco hiss at them.

Hermione felt like Alice down the rabbit hole. Placing her shoes back on her feet, she stood. The sales lady handed her the boxed and bagged purchase. Hermione looked at her with a curious expression.

"The blond paid."

Hermione's eyes met the over-confident gray eyes of her school nemesis. She frowned and put her hands on her hips. "That's awfully presumptuous of you, Draco. I can pay for my own shoes."

Draco smiled at her haughty tone. "But it was my pleasure to buy you something nice."

Blaise wanted to diffuse the situation before it concluded with a whining Malfoy and an angry, absent, Granger. "Where shall we go next, Hermione? Perhaps the ladies boutique a few stores down?"

Hermione blinked, understanding dawning. She was slightly offended. She realized that she'd been gone a while, but surely these wizards didn't think they could run rough shod over her. Was this type of domination accepted by the witches they encountered on a regular basis? Probably, she surmised. Most women loved take charge men; she did as well, but there was a time and a place, neither of which was the here and now.

Smiling the sweetest most tolerant smile she could muster, which made the hairs on Blaise's arms stand on end, she said, "I don't know where _you_ are visiting next, but _I _am going to the book store. And Draco, I will pay you back for my shoes. Of that, you can be certain." It was clear that there was no 'we' in that equation.

It was a matter of moments for her to take her bag from the proud sales lady, and click clack out of the store with four wizards staring at her back and looking confused.

"Did she just _decline_ our company?" asked Adrian, who hadn't heard the word 'no' in a decade, and that was by his mother, who changed her mind a moment later when he pouted at her.

Marcus chuckled. "I believe she did."

Draco smiled, too.

Blaise nodded. "She's a feisty one. Shall we?"

Marcus was out the door before they had finished speaking. He made to catch up to the uppity witch and let her know that it was not that easy to be rid of him.

He caught up to her just as she turned down the aisle for Thriller/Romance in the book store. It surprised him enough for him to lose his current train of thought. "Which is it, Granger? Thriller or Romance?"

Hermione tensed then sighed and turned to face him. Meeting his curious stare made her heart flutter a bit and her stomach to twist pleasantly. "Thriller, of course. I love it when the stalker is revealed and the stalk-ee gets to punish him for his assumptions."

Before he could share his rather dirty retort about him liking to be punished, especially if she was doing the punishing, Draco, Blaise and Adrian caught up the duo.

"And we can't forget that the stalker's merry band of miscreants is publically flogged for their association," Hermione added, dryly.

"I didn't picture you for Romance, Granger," Draco said in response, making them all laugh.

Adrian picked up a book and made a face at the cover. "You read this?"

Hermione eyed the cover: a large muscled warrior with long waving hair (obviously in a windy part of town) was holding a sword in one hand and a scantily clad, overly busty woman over his knee. His other large hand was cupping her cheek and she looked to be swooning to the point of total incapacitation.

Hermione shrugged, noncommittally. Maybe she'd pick it up on the way out.

Reading her correctly, Blaise asked, "What could you: Hermione Granger, know-it-all academic, possibly get from a book like this?"

"I like …words. And many of these types of book provide a more granular …view of events."

"What types of events?" Marcus wondered aloud, watching the heat from her skin travel from between her breasts up her neck and bleed onto her cheeks.

She closed her eyes. "You know what types of events, Marcus!" she hissed.

His name rolling from her angry, embarrassed lips went straight to his cock. He vowed to make her say his name like that as often as he could.

Blaise was chuckling and Adrian was fighting the urge to do the same.

Hermione huffed in indulged frustration as she saw the humor in their catching her in this aisle and the subsequent conversation. Soon, she couldn't hold it any longer and burst out giggling breathlessly.

The five were causing a stir, since they were all laughing uproariously.

That was until the mood dwindled and then ended altogether when a familiar antagonist intruded. "'Mione, what are you doing with …them?" Ron asked, scowling.

He then pulled Hermione roughly to his side with a beefy arm. "You can't have her!" he told them, pointing a stiff, stubby finger at them.

Hermione, irritated at the prevalent misogynistic attitudes, pushed away from the seething redhead. "I'm not a shiny new toy for you to play with, Ronald Weasley! Or you either!" she snapped at the four.

Inhaling loudly, she announced, "I'm leaving," and twisted, Disapparating with a quiet pop. The book she was holding dropped to the floor with a flomp sound.

Four angry eyes turned to Ron. "Nice one, Weasel. Do you repel all pretty witches or just her?"

Ron narrowed his gaze. "What do you want with her anyhow? It's just 'Mione; the Mudblood," he whispered that last part, "her blood status hasn't miraculously changed since the war."

Their expressions were somber. "But we have," Draco said before he, too, Disapparated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**oOo Chapter Two**

The next afternoon, as Hermione made her way towards the Malfoy Manor entry gates, determined to follow through with paying back the young Malfoy heir, she thought back to the previous evening. She hadn't spoken to Ron except to inform him and the rest of the Weasley clan that she would be looking for a home of her own. She also thanked Mrs. Weasley for her hospitality in allowing her to stay upon her return to London. The declaration was met with a mixed reaction. Ron whined that she shouldn't live alone and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley humbly accepted her appreciation and told her they were happy she was back.

The majestic gates opened automatically, and she walked through. The path to the door was paved with slate stone, which made it easy for her walk in heels. Squaring her shoulders, she straightened invisible wrinkles from her sleeveless spring dress.

It was one of her favorites: white fitted bodice with a slightly flared four inch ruffle, starting from mid thigh to just above her knees. It had large red flowers printed on the light cotton fabric. Her shoes matched the flowers. She felt pretty in its simplicity.

As she arrived at the door, she took a calming breath and didn't think about the last time that she'd been here.

Gripping the large silver knocker, she knocked three times. Seconds later, she heard the click clack of heeled shoes approach. The door opened to reveal a beautiful blonde witch, who she knew to be the lady of the house: Narcissa Malfoy.

The woman's eyes widened a fraction, before she smiled.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy. My name is-"

"Hermione Granger. Please, come in."

Hermione smiled and stepped forward. "Thank you. I'm sorry to interrupt your afternoon, but I was looking for Draco. Is he here?"

If possible, Narcissa's smile broadened. "No, he's not. We expect him back shortly. Would you have tea with us, perhaps? We could wait for Draco together."

"I- Okay. Yes, thank you. Tea would be lovely."

Narcissa closed the door and took Hermione's hand. "Wonderful. Marie?" she called as they walked past the drawing room that Hermione remembered, with growing anxiety.

Narcissa seemed to understand the young witch's hesitation and propelled her forward into a lady's sitting room. Marie, the elf, had already set out tea with biscuits. The room was light, airy and feminine with large French doors that were opened to allow a slight breeze, bringing with it the scent of Verbena. It calmed Hermione's nerves almost immediately.

Conversation ended as Hermione took in her surroundings. "Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, I don't want to impose! I only came-"

Narcissa interrupted with a wave her delicate hand. "Nonsense. Please, sit down. I'll make introductions."

Marie poured the witches tea and served them biscuits on small flowered plates.

"Miss Granger, please meet Katesch Zabini-Rosier, Elizabeth Pucey, Rebecca Nott and Tova Flint. Ladies, allow me to introduce Hermione Granger."

"How do you do?" Hermione greeted, nodding at each of the ladies. She was a bit uncomfortable, but instead of acting skittish, she told herself to relax and act like a lady. The latter was offered mentally, in her mother's voice.

"I had heard you returned, Miss Granger. Are you just visiting or seeking permanent residence?" It was Katesch Zabini-Rosier. Hermione thought the woman was lovelier than any model she'd ever seen. Rumors of Blaise's mother's beauty had run rampant among the Hogwarts fourth and fifth year boys, but Hermione hadn't ever laid eyes on the woman until now.

"Permanent, Ms. Zabini-Rosier."

Katesch smiled, which knocked the breath out of Hermione; it was radiant. "Oh pish! Please call me Katesch."

"Thank you. You must call me Hermione then. Katesch is a beautiful name."

This earned Hermione a groan from the two ladies on her right: Elizabeth and Rebecca. They were clearly overly used to someone commenting on something of beauty in regards to Katesch. Hermione fought the urge to snicker.

"My mother was Egyptian, and named me for her grandmother."

Curiosity getting the best of her, Hermione prolonged the explanation. "And your father Italian? Is Zabini your maiden name then?" She had to ask. It was strange for a woman to hyphenate two married names.

"Yes! I gave my dear Blaise the family name; Morganna knows his father didn't deserve to have his name carried on."

A slightly awkward silence followed; everyone knew of Katesch's rather controversial luck with dying spouses.

Hermione sipped her tea and marveled at the fine taste. "This is delicious, Mrs. Malfoy." The elder witch smiled. She was thrilled Hermione Granger had shown up at her door. The girl was not only a war heroine, but also stunning. She was educated and obviously well-mannered. Narcissa had secretly kept track of the comings and going of the illustrious Gryffindor.

Narcissa also knew that she was not the only one from her circle who had designs on the small witch. Hermione would make an exceptional addition to a family, especially ones with no daughters.

Hermione felt surreal, being here at Malfoy Manor, having tea with _The_ Narcissa Malfoy and company. And though she was greeted with an exceptionally warm welcome, Hermione was still a little intimidated.

"Where are you staying presently, Hermione?" Elizabeth asked. Hermione noted that her son clearly got his refined beauty from his mother.

"I've been staying at the Burrow, with the Weasleys, but it's time for me to leave gracefully before I outstay my welcome. I'm ready to begin house hunting."

Narcissa set her cup down on the small table. "Lucius has a number of properties that he owns. I'm sure he would be happy to assist you in your discovery for the perfect home." Narcissa was surprised she was able to say that with a straight face. It was a risk; she had no idea how Hermione would react to offering Lucius' assistance with anything.

As if the fates had listened in on the conversation, Lucius walked through the door to greet his wife, followed by three other gentlemen.

Hermione's heart thawed a bit at the brilliant expression of love on their faces when their eyes met their wives.

Focusing on Lucius for a moment, Hermione also remembered the desperation that Lucius Malfoy had presented when looking for his son during the battle. She knew then that he loved his son more than his own life. Someone that loved his family that deeply couldn't be all bad, she rationalized.

"Volunteering my services again, 'Cissa," Lucius teased. "Ladies," he greeted with a nod in their direction.

Narcissa stood just as Lucius stopped when he saw Hermione.

"Lucius, you remember Hermione Granger." There was an edge to Narcissa's voice and he knew that he was expected to be on his best behavior; not that he wouldn't have already, but his 'Cissy had a temper.

Smiling, he walked forward. "Miss Granger, a pleasure." He bowed over her hand, but didn't kiss it. Hermione was relieved.

"Mr. Malfoy." Hermione gave him a tight smile, but it wasn't all removed. There was some warmth to it. He was grateful for the girl's effort. He wasn't certain he'd have the fortitude to act similarly if the shoe were on the other foot, so to speak.

He turned back to the men currently waiting for introduction. "Hermione Granger, allow me to introduce you to Castor Flint, Pavo Pucey and Ragnar Rosier. Gentlemen, Hermione Granger."

Hermione was definitely intimidated now, though she didn't feel any malice, they were all watching her like she was a bug under a glass. "How do you do?" she asked, once again nodding in greeting. She wasn't able to make her feet move in their direction.

Lucius felt her anxiety and made to break the tension. "What brings you to our home?" he asked, making his way to pour himself a tumbler of brandy.

Hermione watched him unbutton the top button of his dress shirt and roll the sleeves to his forearms. He sat gracefully next to his wife and crossed his legs. The other men took his lead and found seats.

It was all very casually elegant. Though, Hermione did note that Castor Flint took up almost the entire length of a two-seat sofa. He was enormous, she thought and schooled her features to reflect stoicism instead of a child about to be consumed by a monster.

Hermione's face must have said it all, because Pavo chuckled and remarked, "Come now, Miss Granger. We can't always follow formal protocol.

Lucius agreed. "This is our home after all. Where one can relax." In one sentence, he told her to lighten up and reminded her that she was a guest.

Smiling, a bit ashamed of herself and her slip in manners, she nodded. "Of course. I don't know what came over me. Please accept my apologies, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione's admittance surprised him, and Narcissa and the other ladies actually twittered.

Hermione didn't know what to do except explain her presence. "I was out shopping yesterday and ran into Draco, with Blaise, Marcus and Adrian. They followed me into a shoe store." She paused with a pointed look at the ladies, who all rolled their eyes at the young men's antics. "Draco bought my shoes, and I'm here to pay him back."

Lucius looked confused and Narcissa looked positively ecstatic. Tova looked chagrined, but Hermione couldn't tell. She didn't know if the woman was normally surly.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He cleared his throat. "Draco doesn't buy witches …things, Miss Granger. He feels, as I do, that that type of behavior only brings out the more greedy sides of the opposite sex." Snorts of humor around the room filled the space, but all in all it was an agreeing sound, not one of contrary.

Hermione wasn't sure if she was offended or not, but she did acknowledge an understanding of how someone with a vault full of Galleons would assume that approach. She did, however, look directly at the jewels covering the neck, fingers, wrists and ears of his wife.

Lucius smirked. "Point taken, but she is my wife."

Hermione nodded. "Then perhaps he was trying to get me to like him. The last time I saw him – well, we didn't part on good terms."

"Did it work?" he asked.

Narcissa's face fell for a split second. "Lucius!" she hissed.

He glanced at his wife with a mildly fearful expression, but then returned focus to Hermione. He wanted an answer.

Hermione wanted to shout no, but she couldn't. "A bit… but I shan't let it continue; therefore, I'm here to pay him back."

"Did any of the other young men buy you any trinkets, Miss Granger?" Pavo asked, wanting to laugh outright at her indignation, and hoping that Adrian was mindful enough to act a gentleman with this witch. Pavo would be thrilled to have her as part of the Pucey family.

Hermione cleared her throat. "No. But Marcus did…"

Tova sat forward. "Did what?"

Castor was mildly alarmed. He wasn't sure how to read the pretty young heroine. "Did he harm you?!"

"No! No, of course not." She lifted her chin a bit – out of habit. "I can handle myself…" she let the sentence trail and ignored the amused expressions, "he followed me into a book store and teased me about what I was thinking of reading." She was pouting; she knew it, but it had both annoyed and her flattered her.

Ragnar was chuckling quietly. He wouldn't tease though; this witch's temper was infamous.

Narcissa sipped her tea to hide her smile and then looked at Hermione's shoes. "Are those the pair, Hermione?"

Hermione raised her chin and straightened her already pin straight back. "No."

Hermione could tell that the wizards and witches in front of her wanted to laugh, but she wouldn't back down.

Just then a ruckus of sorts sounded from the foyer. Narcissa's eyes gleamed and she stood. "In here, Draco."

Four tall, ridiculously good-looking wizards sauntered into the sitting room, smiling as they realized who was visiting.

Draco spoke first, greeting his mother with a kiss and his father with a handshake. "Mum, Father." The other boys followed suit.

When Draco turned to Hermione, his toothy grin made her smile too. "Hermione, you missed me!"

"Not quite. I came to-"

"Marcus here has something for you, Granger." It was juvenile, the way that Blaise said it. But it had the desired affect, she shifted gears and looked at Marcus, who looked as uncomfortable as humanly possible. It also looked like Blaise's days alive were numbered.

"Marcus?"

Strangely, the room was silent; all listening intently to the conversation.

Marcus inhaled and shifted balance. He was slightly uncomfortable with all eyes on him. It was one thing to have fans cheer for you in a Quidditch Pitch stadium, but this was unnerving.

Dark eyes met pretty brown-hazel ones. Not breaking eye contact, he slowly reached behind is back.

Hermione heard rustling and tilted her head. He must have had it hidden in the small of his back, but she couldn't look away from his smoldering gaze to peak behind him. Pulling out what she immediately recognized was a book, her eyes lit up.

His hand shook slightly – she noticed – as he handed her the familiar paperback. It was the book Adrian had asked her about. It was the one with the warrior on the cover. Hermione's cheeks heated up. She knew they were tearing the mickey.

She took it from him, and when she looked up at him again, he looked uncertain. She got the impression that he wasn't poking fun.

"It's not a joke," Marcus said quickly.

Adrian stepped in with shaking his head. "Just something he thought you'd like," he said, defending his friend.

Not wanting to react harshly, and not wanting to leave a bad taste in his mouth, she decided to get to the heart of why she had visited Malfoy Manor. Turning to Draco, she said, "I came to bring you the money for my shoes." She took his hand and dropped a velvet bag of coins into it. "Thank you, but I have my own vaults."

Facing Marcus again, she tapped the book to his chest, and chirped. "Thank you for the book, Mr. Flint. I'll think of you while I read it."

With her business concluded, she faced Narcissa. "Thank you for the tea and wonderful conversation. I hope to see you again soon. Good bye, Mr. Malfoy. Ladies. Gentlemen."

She walked out of Manor with hips swaying, shoulders squared, chin up and click clacking heels.

All eyes were on Marcus' smiling face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Hermione sighed and let her eyes continue to scan the classifieds; first a place to live then a job. Her mind briefly remembered Narcissa Malfoy mentioning that Lucius had properties. Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about Lucius. It was troubling; this new day in age. She concluded that it was the same surreal feeling that World War II American veterans have when they see vacationers off to Japan.

Deciding acting was better than sitting and doing nothing, Hermione pulled a quill and small parchment from her purse.

A day later, Hermione was sitting with Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy on the patio of their large estate, looking at properties, which were scattered across the table, held in place with paper weights to combat the light breeze.

They were talking about each property, what Hermione wanted and how she came to the decision to find a place of her own.

"It was always the plan; to have a home I could call mine, but it progressed quicker than expected."

It had been quick work for Lucius to jot down Hermione's interests. He liked that she knew what she wanted and what her budget was. He was impressed that she wanted to be able to do a little work to the home herself, though he would recommend a good construction company. Or maybe not, Marcus Flint owned a construction company. Lucius was certain the large lad would do the work himself if it meant spending additional time with the Granger girl.

"I'm certain I can find you what you want, however I am concerned about your budget."

Hermione nodded and bit her lower lip. "I still have the land title that came with the Order of Merlin, and I've saved some over the years. I didn't really expect to feel the need to buy so soon, but…"

"But?" Draco asked.

She really didn't know if she should tell them, but she didn't have anyone to listen to her whing. "I can't stay at the Burrow any longer. I love the Weasleys, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but I can't breathe and I keep thinking that one mishap of magic and the whole house will come tumbling down around us. Mrs. Weasley's style is so… eclectic-"

"That's a nice way to put it," Lucius interrupted.

"Lucius!" Narcissa chided.

Hermione giggled then continued. "Plus Ron… I need somewhere to call my own."

Pausing for a moment to envision her own library, she continued, "Maybe we can find a home that needs a lot of work. Fixer uppers are cheaper aren't they?" she asked, nearly pleading with Lucius.

He looked at her with a serious expression. "They are a lot of work and can be more expensive over time. Frustration and anxiety at unfinished work and the constant surprises that occur does not make for a comfortable life, Hermione." It was the first time he had used her given name. It felt familiar and friendly; she smiled at him.

Lucius needed time to think.

"Allow me to take another look. Let's plan to meet here this time in three days. Are you free then?"

She nodded. But her expression and presentation was off.

"Hermione, would you be opposed to staying here until you find a suitable alternate arrangement? We have a guest house in the back. It isn't attached to the main building."

All Hermione wanted to do was run into Narcissa's arms and thank her, but she refrained. Her eyes shifted to Lucius, who looked fine with his wife's offer then she looked at Draco. He looked extremely pleased.

Once again her thought processes were interrupted by noise in the foyer. Three wizards came striding through to the patio to stand near Draco. All greeted with smiles and general handsome-ness. It was disturbing the way that they eyed her with such …desire.

It'd only been a few days, and she could honestly say that she had never been pursued quite so openly. It was a flattering feeling.

"May I have the evening to think it over?" She didn't want to sound ungrateful, but it was a bit abrupt.

Narcissa smiled with understanding. "Of course, dear. I'll give you this Floo code. If you want to come back tonight, you're welcome to. If not, that's fine as well."

Hermione walked to the beautiful blonde and took grasped her hands. "Thank you."

Narcissa smiled. "You're welcome."

"Will you be returning to the Burrow?" Lucius asked, curious.

"Not at the moment," Adrian answered for her.

Hermione huffed. "Yes."

Blaise stepped forward. "Will you have dinner with us, Tesoro?"

Hermione folded her arms across her chest then unfolded them; shifted from one foot to the other and pursed her lips. Her thin lips gave way to her nibbling on her lower lip.

"Hermione love, stop fidgeting and come to dinner. It'll be fun," Marcus admonished, with his elbow out for her to take.

"Okay." _But only because you called me love_, she added in her mind. _And because I want to feel those muscled tree trunks you call arms._

Adrian grunted with humor. Hermione's thoughts were written all over her face.

Once they were gone, Narcissa turned to Lucius. "Do you think it's possible?"

Knowing what his wife wanted, but needing to hear her confirm it, he asked, "Do I think what's possible?"

Narcissa huffed. "Don't be coy, Lucius. You know she would make a wonderful addition to our family. Grandchildren. Grand_daughter_…" she teased.

Lucius had wanted a daughter more than anything after Draco was born, but they had tried and tried, and weren't able to carry a baby to term. Narcissa had had four miscarriages and one stillbirth. Her emotional state could not withstand another crushing disappointment, so they had stopped trying.

When Lucius thought about what Narcissa said, his heart leapt with hope. He promptly squashed it and cleared his throat.

The arm around his wife tightened, but he didn't say anything.

oOo

Hermione smoothed invisible wrinkles from her dress once again, and she was about the run her fingers through her hair, but Blaise took one of her small hands in his and Marcus took the other. The large wizard leaned to the side towards her and said, "Stop fidgeting, Granger, you look good. Tasty."

These men seemed to be obsessed with food, and she was the experimental new cuisine.

They turned down an alley and stopped at an ornate door. Adrian knocked twice and the door opened.

Hermione gasped and looked at both Blaise and Marcus. "I feel like I'm about to be taught the secret handshake!" she whispered excitedly.

Draco, standing behind her, snorted. "Act natural," he advised, chuckling at her rolling onto her tip toes and back again. He splayed his hands over her hips to calm her jittery movement.

"Adrian Pucey, with Marcus Flint, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Hermione Granger."

The man at the door was nodding and penning the names on the list, but he paused at the last name. Adrian repeated it with a stern voice. "And Hermione Granger."

"Yes, Mr. Pucey. I'll have a table straight away."

Hermione tried not to let little things like that bother her. It took time for people to change their views, but it still stung. She felt a Marcus' warm hand placed soothingly against her back. His fingers made scratchy movements and rubbed comfortingly as they waited.

Blaise's thumb was rubbing circles on the inside of her wrist and all three were standing very near her. She appreciated their concern. Even Adrian; he wasn't touching her nor was he even looking at her, but the anger was radiating off of him and she found a certain pleasure in his anger; that it was for her.

The door opened suddenly; a different man greeting them. A smile lit his face as he looked directly at Hermione. "Miss Granger, I just had to come see for myself that it was really The Hermione Granger waiting to dine at our humble restaurant. Please come in and I apologize for the wait."

Almost crushingly relieved, Hermione nodded, smiled and stepped forward.

oOo

They sat down at a round table large enough to fit them all comfortably. A menu was placed in her hands by the waiter, and with a promise to return in a few moments, he bowed and left.

Hermione, as was her habit, looked at the desserts first. They all appealed to her sweet tooth, so she asked for an opinion. "Have you lot had dessert here?"

When silence returned her question, she looked up from her menu to see that they were staring at her curiously. "What?" she asked.

Draco smiled and then answered. "Why are you looking at dessert? You haven't had dinner yet."

Hermione, not one to be dissuaded, quirked her eyebrow and set to scold. "You haven't answered my question, Draco."

Draco snorted. "No."

Hermione's eyes travelled to the other pairs, each met with shaking heads. Four wizards and none of them had had dessert here.

She closed her menu and said, "Well, no time like the present. Pick one then and we'll each try it," she decided for them. Not waiting for concurrence, she lifted her chin to beckon the waiter, and ordered hers first. Looking expectantly at the others, Blaise stuttered through his order of banana cream pie; Marcus ordered chocolate lava cake, Draco went with lemon meringue pie and after Adrian frowned at the impossible situation, he ordered chocolate chip cookies with ice cream.

Hermione had seen the scandalized expression Adrian wore at first, but was proud of him for going with the flow. She even went so far as to tease him a bit. "Don't be such a fuddy duddy, Mr. Pucey, it's only dessert."

"I know that," he snapped, but then smirked. He liked her. She was different, but still… His mother never let him have dessert first, and once he was of age, proper course order was ingrained. He was still a bit confused at her; clearly Muggle etiquette differed from magical. The next sentence out of his mouth would forever haunt him and if he, twenty years from now, could back in time to stop himself, he would.

Hermione was still watching him; waiting.

"I didn't think you would have dessert; you know, watching your figure and all that… I mean-"

"Wait. Did you just call me fat?" she asked, wanting to laugh, but showing a sterner expression. The Mighty Ladies Man, Adrian Pucey just crashed and burned, and she was going to exploit it. By the looks of his friends, they couldn't believe that that just came out of his mouth.

"What? No! No, no, no!" Adrian was shaking his head quite furiously. "That's not at all what I meant. Absolutely not!"

"That's what it sounded like to me," Hermione quipped.

Draco caught the evil gleam in her eye and smirked. _The little she-devil_, he thought.

The desserts came at that point and Adrian was still shaking his head then decided it would be best if he explained his logic. "I just… I mean, having dessert first is no big deal, but I was just thinking that Muggle manners-" Hermione quirked an eyebrow, Adrian backtracked. "Not manners, wrong word, I mean …er, I mean practice. Yes, that's it: Muggle practice was quite different from Magical." He was nodding now.

The corner of Hermione's lip twitched. She took a fork and sliced through her dessert. She licked her lips and slowly opened her mouth, moaning at its rich taste.

When she opened her eyes, the wizards at the table were watching her; entranced. All eyes were glued to her lips. She decided to throw them a bone and licked her lips – just a little.

"My mum rarely let me have dessert and never before a meal. It was considered unladylike to even request dessert. But I'm no longer a child, and the war taught me to live – break rules, enjoy life!" she exclaimed, with a wink and a smile. "So, here we are, eating dessert first. Isn't it exciting?" There was a conspiratorial tone to her voice, making the men smile.

Adrian nodded. "Yes, we were not allowed dessert either." Before he could say more, Hermione interrupted again, "See, not so different."

Blaise couldn't take it anymore and chuckled, tucking into his dessert.

Throughout dinner, really dessert with drinks, they talked and laughed and shared their desserts. Each man enjoying himself so much he couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so frequently in one sitting. Each knew what was different, why they were having such a good time.

Hermione was having a blast. And with some trepidation, she found herself attracted each wizard. She found this mildly disturbing and promptly put it out of her mind. Her reverie was interrupted when Marcus held a bite of his dessert for her to sample. Hermione smiled and opened her mouth for him to feed her.

"Delicious!" she exclaimed then became pensive. This was strange.

"What are you thinking?" Draco asked.

The question disquieted her. She thought better of being completely honest. "I was thinking how much fun I was having, and it was nice to be in such great company."

"So you like us then, huh Granger?" Blaise asked.

Hermione shrugged noncommittally. "Perhaps a bit."

Adrian snorted, and Hermione's head snapped in his direction.

He wore a smug expression, and said, "Oh, I think you like us more than just a bit, Hermione."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, and flopped back in her seat. "No." Nodding to the server, she signed a bank note – enough to cover all the desserts and drinks, then stood and fought a smile when all of them shot up to stand with her. "Gentlemen, it's been a lovely evening. Have a good night."

They watched her walk away with swaying hips and squared shoulders then shifted focus on a sufficiently chuffed Adrian Pucey.


End file.
